Meandering and Memories in a Desert Park
My paternal grandmother thought of herself as poor. Whenever she used the phrase, “poor people,” she included herself, whether or not she added, “like us.” My grandparents were solid middle class. They owned their home outright, drove a late-model Pontiac, and bought a color TV before my parents did.
But to Grandma Sarah, they were poor. My grandparents were born in Tucson in the late 1880s. They were from the Hispanic community; both were native Spanish speakers. On March 20, 1880, the railroad came to Tucson and stitched the country together. People moved west, some stayed in Arizona, and Tucson began to change. Many of the new residents didn’t understand the culture, language, or traditions. Some regarded Hispanics as second-class citizens. My grandfather’s supervisor once admonished him to stop speaking Spanish at the workplace.
I suspect Grandma thought herself poor, at least in part, because of that bias. We sometimes swallow things we never fully digest. Many of our countrymen exude fear and anger. What awful thing did they swallow?
Farewell to Fritz
One Final Cruise; One Last Farewell
We never discussed music. We discussed many things over the years, but never music. When it was time to produce a playlist for Fritz, I didn’t know her favorite song – or if she even had one. So, I chose some music from her era and some from mine and compiled the soundtrack for her last cruise.
Fritz Kinney was my mother-in-law. She passed away in 2017, a few weeks shy of what would have been her 92nd birthday.
After a few days of meetings with a probate lawyer, the funeral home, and others, Fritz’ cremains were given to my wife Kris’ older sister, Kathy. Kathy, who wasn’t sure when or where she would scatter Fritz’ ashes, never got around to it. A little more than a year later, Kathy went to bed one night and never woke up. The disposition of Fritz’ remains became our responsibility. We escorted Fritz on her final journey last week.